Heading in to work…

…as I hear the DJs going on about the chill of the 48 degrees, I don’t know whether to feel more sympathy for the naked man spotted strolling down Roswell Road this morning or for the pair of construction workers who seemed to have lost the coin toss and were forced to ride to work with all the equipment. I bet the 48 degrees felt worse at 80 mph on the interstate in the back of a truck, though.

[mood | discontent]

This must just be the month of my discontent. Old, depressing thoughts rattling around in the back of my mind. The weirdest little things set it off… hearing the hockey score on the radio. It makes no sense. It takes a conscious effort to push them away and think of other things. Better things. Good things.

Work is, simply, work. So busy, can’t take it all in to organize or prioritize, which is fine with plenty of folks coming by to stand and watch me finish an issue for them. That seems to take up all the time in the days. Should be training with Geoffrey today, whenever he gets here.

Long talk with mom last night. Guess what, she wants me to visit. I know, craziness. Guess what else, she has some excuse why I have to visit her and she can’t visit me. It’s mystery noise #437 that her car is making, “probably nothing, but…” just enough reason to leave it parked.

“The boys” are gathering for “the race” this weekend. I was invited; I declined (lack of penis). I don’t know what I’m going to be doing this weekend. Maybe I will go see mom. Maybe I will try to enjoy the empty apartment on Saturday. It would be a good day for a posse shopping trip, except they seem to have forgotten they like each other.

Wow, remedy report tells me I have 51 open issues. Perhaps I should take a look at them and shut up this stupid rambling because I won’t say a damn thing that I really want to say here. No obvious spelling it out, because it’s too scary when people don’t react.